While Priscilla's group fought valiantly against the odds, challenging and training themselves against the vile elements that plagued the empire. The same could not be said for those residing in the imperial capital. The machinations of the mad emperor blazed like a funeral pyre, readied to swallow the whole continent in the sudden stroke of evil that consumed their once gentle ruler.

  Kyrian Ellis was a man on a mission to destroy everything his family had forged over the hundreds of years of the empire's history. And the people were the ones suffering because of it.

  Homes barricaded. People huddled in fear as their husbands, sons, and brothers struggled to find whatever it was they could to defend themselves against the soldiers surging through the streets following their ruler's unreasonable commands.

  One could call it a symphony of death.

  The raw and steady clash of flesh and steel rang through the city with its dreary tune. Bodies slammed against the paved roads like the dull bang of a drum. The frantic dance of panicked souls fleeing as far as their circumstances could allow when nowhere was truly safe.

  As death came in waves, so too rose—the minute uprisings that cropped up from one district to the next.

  Within one part of the city, soldiers demolished the feeble barricades that blocked off the door, barging in with persistence as they dragged out all those within and threw them onto the street while their fellows pierced spears into them. Their vile actions continuously stoked the emotions of those incapable of understanding why the empire devolved into such a primal landscape of incorrigible destruction, and from those emotions, brawls formed as those soldiers who came from humble backgrounds rose up.

  They were far too unwilling to allow their prosperous nation to become a barbaric landscape not much different than the lands of sand they looked down upon.

  "Fight! Fight until they see reason! The emperor has gone mad, and we cannot continue slaughtering our people in this manner!" One of the rebel soldiers roared as they attacked their fellow soldiers—ones they'd fought countless battles with shoulder to shoulder.

  His cries would go short as the soldiers lunged at him, penetrating him with their weapons. But to say his emotions were wasted. That would be an understatement.

  Emotions spiraled into an almost tangible stench that pervaded the capital, and with it, rebellions and brawls became an ever-increasing routine.

  "Submit, the emperor has called for the extermination of traitorous dissenters! If you have nothing to hide, permit us to search. Only the innocent shall remain in our mighty empire!" One loyal soldier said.

  Behind him, dozens of soldiers followed behind his steps, weapons drawn and brows furrowed beneath their helms as they scowled at the few eyes that peered through the barricaded homes filling that street.

  "You've all gone mad!" A boy cried out as he slammed his door open and tossed a stone with all the might he could muster, dinging it against one of the soldier's breastplates. "We're not dissenters. We're all just living in what should be our homeland! You're the dissenters sowing chaos!"

  Hearing his provocative words, the soldiers rushed at the boy. He startled and slammed the door shut, but the men barged through it like fiendish beasts. To the soldiers, violence was the answer to everything, while for the boy, it was an end to everything. The feral beasts barged in without mercy, slamming their fists against his face until blood flowed—limbs cracked and snapped in awkward ways, grotesque squelches filling the street with its gut-wrenching sound until silence struck.

  Their wicked act brought out a secondary wave of fury as more people emerged, fury stoked like the flames of war. Objects flew with all the force the distressed people could muster, slamming against the soldier's armor and disorientating their advances.

  "You're demons!" A woman hissed as a brick flung from her aged hands.

  "VILE" A man spat with blood flowing from his lips as he ran into their midst with a long, dull knife.

  "You've forsaken the empire. You've forsaken humanity!" Another barked.

  The soldiers glared icily at the citizens' emotional outbursts as one would glare at a disobedient child.

  "You dare criticize us when we are the ones who protect you—ungrateful insolence etched in the foolishness of your choices for all to see for the remainder of history." One of the soldiers said, voice quivering with silent fury.

  "Attack!" He roared as his squad rushed forward, attacking the citizens with merciless strikes.

  Blood flowed down the streets as destitute expressions filled the crowd. They were unwilling. Unrelenting. Unconvinced. The soldiers may have protected them once upon a time, but—now they were just slaughterers who had to be stopped.

  Fight as they did, going against the trained soldiers who had dedicated their lives to the empire—they were powerless to compete.

  "Cease this madness!" Someone shouted behind the squad of soldiers as metallic footsteps echoed through the street. "You've gone too far, brother."

  The soldier who led the madness turned toward the sound only to find a new squad of soldiers walking into the street. At the forefront, his brother stood, a blood-red cross painted across his breastplate and a pained grimace staining his face.

  "What are you doing here?" He asked, ice lacing his words.

  "I've come to stop you—we have. The emperor has lost himself to insanity, and the empire stands at the precipice of destruction caused by its own blood—have you no shame for this, brother?" The newcomer roared as he stared at his blood-soaked brother.

  "Shame? My only shame is calling you kin." The soldier replied as he pulled his blade out from a man's abdomen beneath him. "The emperor's words are law. A soldier must obey the emperor's call. Are you so ignorant of this simple truth?"

  "Fine, brother. If it must end like this. If you refuse to hear your own insanity, then we must put an end to your insanity ourselves." The man punched his chest, rubbing his fist against the still-wet blood that crossed on his breastplate. "For all the lives you've taken—the innocent souls you've reaped—your lives must be forfeit."

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  The soldiers roared, voices shaking the surroundings with passion and fury. Thunderous strikes crashed against the paved stones as they rushed toward the emperor's dogs with blades drawn, ready to put their brethren and kin down like the mad dogs they were.

  Metal against metal. Flesh against flesh.

  Strike after strike.

  The streets became a bloodied landscape of desperation as none were safe from the troubled waters that surged through the street, coursing with unrelenting divine retribution and swallowing all within its path.

  It quickly broke into a standstill as the soldiers' blades met in the middle, incapable of breaking through each other's defenses. On both sides of the battle, men panted and gasped for air, weakness coursing through their flesh. But until the battle ended, they could not commit to their fatigue; they had to end it.

  Their restless standstill halted as drums echoed through the city, pounding with a powerful, rhythmic, and violent sound. With them, metal steps slammed in a steady march, following behind the almost inaudible click of horse hooves against the stones.

  "RELENT!" A shout echoed.

  "REPENT!" Another added.

  "RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!" Another roared.

  Their voices mingled, spreading through the city as if enhanced for all to hear.

  "The noble and righteous Emperor Kyrian Ellis arrives! Kneel and await his dignity to proclaim punishment against the dissenters!"

  In front of the marching soldiers, the mad emperor rode with a deadpanned gaze that chilled the hearts of any unfortunate enough to witness it. His cape fluttered softly behind him as he clenched the reins.

  Once they reached an open area near the city's center, the soldiers organized themselves around the emperor, creating a wall of fortified metal behind him as they shielded his back. Emperor Ellis stood before them with a massive sword drawn and pierced into the ground as he rested his hands on it.

  "My citizens," Emperor Ellis spoke, his voice carrying through the city with a mystical force that propelled it for all to hear. "With a heavy heart, I must say...too many betrayers have engorged themselves in my imperial capital. Feeding off my grace and kindness and fattening themselves while carrying traitorous intentions in their hearts."

  "This cannot continue." He uttered coldly.

  "My soldiers," Emperor Ellis continued, his tone shifting into one of an almost doting father chiding his children. "Those of you who continue fulfilling my orders, I thank you. But those who cry treason and rebel against their brethren, for shame on you. Who do you think you are? What right do you stake to go against the law of the land? Kneel immediately and beg for forgiveness if you don't wish to join the rebels in death."

  His proclamations stilled the hearts of many. And angered many more.

  "Rebels...?" The cross-branded soldier muttered in disbelief. "After everything, they have the nerve to insist on calling us rebels?"

  "Do you hear that, brothers?" He asked to the men fighting behind him. "If they're to brand us rebels, what shall we do then? I say, give them what they ask for!"

  "REBEL AGAINST THE MAD EMPEROR!" His brethren roared as their fatigue numbed beneath their blazing fury.

  "REBEL!" He echoed with them.

  Their standstill broke into pieces as the emperor's mad dogs stilled into a daze, confused by their ruler's words. Metal armor thudded against the stones as their blood seeped from their flesh, staining the city and leaving its mark.

  The cross-branded soldier hovered over his brother not long after, blade against the man's throat as both rasped with weariness and palpable futility.

  "Will you truly kill your brother for this mad rebellion of yours?" The man asked, blood trickling down his neck as the blade pressed slightly against it once he spoke. "The emperor's elites will never let you win. Let me go, brother. Kneel before him. You can still be spared."

  "Never ever! If he wishes for a rebellion, then a rebellion, he shall get!"

  With the words uttered, his blade dug deep, and his brother's blood poured from the wound, a finality that could not be faked.

  Emperor Ellis rapped his fingers atop his other hand, gazing out across the horizon with a bored expression as he seemed impatient to continue with the bloodshed. Once time passed and none of the soldiers relented and kneeled, the citizens remained hiding or resisting, and his words remained ignored and neglected; a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  "Rain death upon the dissenters!" Emperor Ellis commanded, waving his hand behind him.

  The empire's elite soldiers swept through the streets, stampeding beasts cut from a far nobler cloth. Their skilled advances were clearly displayed to the misfortune of all the fleshy fodder pierced by their blades. For them, no words could misguide them. No emotion could stop them. The law was the law, and the law was their ruler's noble command, for now and for eternity.

  Hours of carnage drowned the imperial city in its wrathful advance. Hope began to fade. Eyes turned from ones fueled by disobedience and unwillingness to those stained by loss—loss of hope, love, and everything else that mattered, leaving nothing but a hollow void of destituteness awaiting their demise.

  "We fight!"

  "We fight!"

  "WE FIGHT!"

  "THE SAVIOR COMES—DOWN WITH THE MAD EMPEROR!"

  Passionate chants swelled. They coursed like waves as they spread across the city, cradling every nook and cranny with their uplifting tune.

  Thud after thud as something slammed against the city's gates, striking them with an unseen force that thundered for all to hear. Then, a violent gale wind blew through the streets as the gates opened with a sonorous sound.

  Clad in black obsidian armor, embellished with golden accents and a regal insignia etched into their breastplates, hundreds if not thousands of soldiers marched in, following at the back of a lone man riding atop a majestic black steed. His slicked black hair shone beneath the starlight that radiated against his noble and dignified form. His upright back seemed firm and mighty, capable of carrying the burden of a world atop it.

  "Duke Valentine, rightful heir, has come to bring salvation!"

  "The emperor has gone mad and forsaken his people. All hail Duke Valentine!"

  The obsidian-clad legion chanted and propped up their ruler with passionate and unflinching voices, unashamed by their proclamations of grandeur.

  "Brother, oh, brother, what madness has festered within your soul to cause such depravity and destruction among our proud and valiant empire?" Duke Valentine calmly spoke as he approached the emperor and his men. "From the southern shores to the eastern sand lands our predecessors fought, braving the wilderness that stretched across and unifying the land under one ruler. Yet, you have decided to tarnish everything we've built, shameful!"

  "Why are you here, Karthus? Emperor Ellis asked. "You had vanished from the capital for so long only to reappear when dissenters swarm through the city with their dangerous ambitions and ideals. Coincidence? I think not."

  "You too... are one of them, Karthus. Aren't you?"

  "Snap out of it, damned fool! What's come over you!? What foul witchcraft possessed your sanity and corrupted it into such unprovoked fiendishness?" Duke Valentine spoke, his emotions stirring. "You ask why I've come?"

  "I've come to stop you! The empire must survive!"